Strange as Angels
by tunnelsnakesandk1ngs
Summary: After the events of the "Stick of Truth" game she played in her youth, The New Kid hasn't been seen in South Park for many years. When Pete and the Goth Kids are taking a smoke break during their first year at Denver Community College, the New Kid and the Red Goth meet each other again. How much has the New Kid changed and what will happen when Pete comes to term with his feelings?
1. Cinnamon Girl

**Cinnamon Girl**

The commons at Denver Community College was bustling with students during lunchtime. Whereas most of the students sat down to eat their lunch at the various tables and booths, four students knew that the best place to enjoy a break from the boring lectures and obnoxious non-conformists was just right outside the big glass doors.

One of those students, a tall curly haired boy named Michael, felt like he was walking in quicksand as he pushed past the other students that he considered to be Justin and Britney wannabes. He urged to leave the confinement of this Hell and step outside to his 'home', the only place he felt like he belonged.

_Just a few more steps_, he thought to himself, _I just need to get outside those doors._

His lungs were tight from the stressful first day back at DCC. He needed a smoke, he needed his special dark blend of coffee, but most importantly he needed his friends. They were the only ones in this nightmare of a community college that understood and felt his pain, and they've been with him since the seventh layer of Hell formerly known as South Park Elementary.

The minute Michael escaped from the jungle everyone else called a commons, he was greeted with the sight of a boy with medium length red and black hair, leaning against the outside wall of the commons while slowing inhaling from his almost out cigarette. Feeling Michael's stare, the boy turned in his direction and snuffed out the remains of his cig while straightening his bolo tie. "Enjoy the rat race of community college life, Mike?" The red Goth softly laughed as Michael rolled his eyes, pulled out his pack, and plopped down.

"So not in the mood, Peter." Michael placed a cig in his mouth and lit it with his engraved lighter, slowly leaning back and exhaling.

The red Goth scrunched his nose at Michael. "You know I hate that name, Mikey."

"And you know I hate Mike, Mikey, or any other variation of my given name," Michael sighed, scanning the upcoming crowd to his left until he found who he was searching for.

Trailing behind a group of preppy girls was a beautiful curvy Goth girl with an unlit cigarette between her black lips. As she walked, her eyes never once lifted from the pages of what looked to be a volume of manga. Her eyes lit up when she flipped the page and a small smile formed upon her lips, until she bumped into the blonde haired girl in front of her.

"Watch it, Bat Girl." The blonde turned around to sneer at the Gothic girl, who was still too busy enjoying her book to even pay attention to what the prep was saying.

"Henri," Michael called out as he waved over his girlfriend. _Always prioritizing books before everything._

Pulled out of her fictional world, the Goth walked towards her beloved and bent down to his level, her middle finger holding her place in her _Death Note_ manga.

"I could use a light," she laughed, reaching in her purse for a bookmark and the black cigarette holder she always kept with her.

Michael smirked as he inched towards Henrietta's face, letting the tip of his lit cigarette light hers. As he pulled back, Henriette exhaled a big smoke ring between their faces, forming a grey smoke halo around Michael's head like a picture frame.

Biting her lower lip, she placed her cigarette in the holder and leaned up against the brick wall to the right of Michael.

"You guys should really read this," Henrietta lifted up her manga. "I wish a Shinigami would come down to the Human World and give us a Death Note of our own."

"Didn't you just start that yesterday morning," Pete recalled, staring at the cover with a puzzled look upon his face.

"Oh, just the first volume. I'm about halfway through now. Just a couple more volumes left. And then I'll read the spin offs and watch the anime, animated movies, and live-action movies." She smiled to herself while Michael and Pete laughed at her.

"What's so funny, guys?"

The Gothic trio turned to look in the direction of the sad voice heading towards them. Sure enough, the last Goth was slowly heading in their direction. With him, the Gothic Group of Death and Despair was complete at last.

"I bet you had a wonderful first day, Firkie." she asked the approaching Goth child, her voice dripping with sarcasm. His expression seemed to do the talking for him, but he replied to her question anyway.

"I wish I didn't take this dual enrollment shit," the smallest Goth kid bemoaned as he sat down next to Henrietta. "Don't get me wrong; I'm glad I decided to take it because I get to see you bitches. But I am like the only sixteen year old on campus."

The Little Goth checked his book bag and groaned.

"Just my luck, huh. I ran out of cigarettes, got any Henrietta?"

"Firkle, you know I never leave the house without a brand new pack," Henriette smirked as she pulled out a pack of smokes from her purse. She handed one to the freshman Goth and lit it for him, watching him take a long drag before finally exhaling.

Pete cleared his throat. "So, I think we should start a band again."

Michael almost dropped his cig in shock. "Well, that's a rather shocking way to start an afternoon. Any particular reason why?"

Pete shrugged. "Remember that shitty talent show we were in back when we were Baby Bats and Kinder Goths? I miss playing the bass. I took it out last night and began playing some covers."

Firkle smiled as he took another drag. "Nice. Any specific songs you know how to play now?"

"Yeah," Henrietta chimed in. "Besides 'Talent Shows Are For Fags'?"

Pete could feel his face heat up and swore that the shade of his skin would soon match his hair. However, before he could respond he noticed a familiar person walking past him.

_Is that…Douchebag?_ Pete thought to himself, his eyes following the stranger.

A girl about the same age as the Goth Kids passed them by. But she didn't look like an ordinary Denver Community College student. Pete thought she could easily pass for a fifth Goth kid if she had black hair.

Her light red hair was braided down her back, which made her easy to spot among the crowd of conformists. She was wearing a black dress with a grey collar and a pair of black suede Creepers.

Pete couldn't really identify her style. It certainly wasn't traditionally Goth, but it wasn't like what the other non-conformists were wearing. _Maybe she didn't care about what subculture she belonged in or maybe she was just starting to explore Goth?_ He thought to himself, still studying her.

Since that whole "Stick of Truth" game they played in their elementary school days, this was the first time they've seen Douchebag in many years. They thought she must have moved away or died, because the townsfolk have only seen her parents out in public. Hell, everyone thought Douchebag was a boy because she never spoke to anybody except Stan and his group. But Douchebag's whereabouts before today or her gender didn't really matter to the Goths right now. They knew she was highly upset about something by studying her body language.

"Douchebag!" Pete called out to the girl.

'Douchebag' was the only moniker that he could remember. He felt terrible for not knowing her real name, unless Douchebag was her actual name, but it wasn't like he could check out her Facebook; she deleted it when she left South Park elementary.

Her music must have been too loud or she was downright ignoring them, because Douchebag just kept walking past them and fiddling with her MP3 player.

Michael got up and walked towards her, pulling her ear buds out. She turned around and stared daggers at Michael, trying to grab her ear buds from his hand.

"New kid, Dovahkiin, Douchebag, Dragonborn, whatever the fuck your name is. We are talking to you!" Michael yelled until finally, the upset girl turned around and headed towards to the group of misfits.

"One," she replied with a hint of hostility in her quiet voice. "My name is not Douchebag or any of that other shit. It's Thorne."

"For such a conformist," Firkle smirked. "You definitely have the most Goth name out of all of us."

"I thought she was like a mute or something," Pete flipped his hair as he whispered to himself.

"Two," she shook slightly, the anger filling her up. "As you all have probably noticed, I am not in the best mood right now so if you knew what was best for all of you, you'd leave me the hell alone or I swear I will make you all die of heart attacks."

"Calm down Kira," Henrietta laughed. "Pete just wanted to ask you something."

"Kira?" Thorne turned her head in Henrietta's direction and let a small smile escape her lips. "You like _Death Note_?"

Henrietta shook her head in agreement.

"Fine," Thorne sighed. "You seem a hell of a lot, shall we say, tolerant, since the last time we spoke." Her blue eyes seemed to tear into Pete, as if she was looking for something in his physical features. "What?"

"What's that you were listening to just now?" Pete stared back.

Thorne took a step back. "Really? My playlist? That's the question you wanted an answer to?"

"Well, whatever you were listening to sounded cool." Pete looked down at his purple winklepecker shoes. Okay, that wasn't what he wanted to ask her. But since she was highly upset about something, he didn't want to piss her off any more than they already did.

She sighed, pausing her current playlist before handing her MP3 player to the red Goth.

Pete's eyes lit up when he noticed a familiar band that he and the other Goths enjoyed. "You like Type O?" he asked in shock.

"Yeah?" Thorne looked at Pete like he was an alien. To be honest, she was shocked that they even liked Type O Negative. They were a gothic metal band, but she always assumed the Goths just preferred stuff like Bauhaus and Siouxsie and the Banshees.

"The Drab Four are my favorite band," he whispered to himself, trying to hide the small smile that was starting to form.

Rolling her eyes, she sat down next to Pete and grabbed her MP3 player back, shuffling through the artists.

"What's your favorite song, Pete? Or should I call you Peter Steele?" Thorne winked at him.

"Lately, it's been their 'Cinnamon Girl' cover. You know, '_I wanna live with a cinnamon girl. I could be happy the rest of my life.'" _Pete sang the opening lines softly to Thorne, hoping she had that on her MP3 player. Then again, what self-respecting fan of Type O didn't own _October Rust_?

Thorne scoffed. "What self-respecting fan of Type O Negative doesn't own _October Rust_, arguably one of their best albums?"

Pete bit his lip, wondering if she read his mind.

"Here," she handed the MP3 player back to the red Goth before putting one of the earbuds in her left ear, leaving the right earbud for Pete.

Putting it in his right ear, Pete slowly leaned back against the brick wall and closed his eyes, letting the bass-baritone voice of Peter Steele take over his thoughts.

"Pete actually looks relaxed for once," Henrietta giggled to Michael.

"I can still hear you," Pete replied to the two Gothic lovebirds as he opened his eyes and looked over at Thorne, her eyes closed and softly whispering the lyrics.

_What a dork_, Pete thought jokingly. Maybe Thorne wasn't really a Douchebag after all. _Maybe she could be the Fifth. Or…_

Pete flipped his hair, trying to erase those thoughts from his mind.

Michael and Henrietta are finally together after what seemed to be a thousand years. Pete knew he didn't need anybody, but watching Michael and Henrietta out the corner of his eyes made him jealous. He loved Firkle, but not the way Michael loves Henrietta. Pete never even held a girl's hand, much less had a girlfriend. Thorne probably had someone like Michael, anyway.

"Fuck these conformist feelings," Pete whispered under his breath. "Thorne?"

Still enjoying the song, Thorne paid no attention to Pete once again.

_Let's try to be a little optimistic for once, Pete_. He took a deep breath and slowly removed the ear bud from Thorne's ear. Just before she was about to turn around and give him a dirty look, and before he could stop himself, he whispered softly into her ear:

"Let's chase the moonlight tonight, my cinnamon girl."


	2. The Fragile

When Thorne unlocked the door and entered her home, a green blur raced towards her and hugged her.

"H-h-hello Mom," Thorne gasped, hugging her mother back.

Pulling away, Thorne's mom smiled at her daughter and asked, " How was your first day at college, honey?"

Blushing, Thorne looked away from her mother. "It was okay. I met some people."

Eyes lighting up, her mother led her to the sofa and sat down. "Tell me all about it!"

Thorne gulped and began to recount the afternoon's events.

"I met some people I went to school with. I, uh, didn't tell them why I left. Um, one of them is taking me somewhere tonight."

"You don't know where you're going?" her mother asked skeptically.

Leaning back on the sofa, Thorne responded, "He said it was a secret."

Studying her daughter's face, Thorne's mother sighed.

"That's fine, just be careful. Are you hungry? It's almost dinnertime."

Thorne shook her head. "I didn't eat lunch on campus."

"Your father is working late tonight, so it'll just be me and you for dinner. He made some lasagna for us last night so all we have to do is heat it up. You can take some to your boyfriend ton-"

"H-he's not my boyfriend," Thorne bit her lip. "We just met for the first time in years today. We don't know too much about each other so it'd be just plain stupid to be dating."

Laughing, her mother got up from the sofa and headed towards the kitchen. "Whatever you say, sweetie. Mind helping me heat up our dinner?"

After cleaning up the dishes from their meal, Thorne headed upstairs to her bedroom and sat down on her bed. She reached over for the remote on her nightstand and turned on her television.

The DVD player still had one of her _Chobits_ disks in. Thorne pressed play and re watched one of her favorite episodes.

"But if the one for me falls in love with me,"the main character Chi read from her book _The Town with No People_. "…That is when I have to part with the one for me."

As she was watching the scene, Thorne began to think of the Red Goth named Pete that she met today. She couldn't comprehend why he was nice to her and wanted to see her tonight. It's not like she was someone special.

"Still, I want to meet the one for me. I think that I walk through the emp-"

The rest of Chi's lines were interrupted by a loud ringing sound, scaring Thorne and making her jump. Realizing it was just the sound of her ringtone, she picked up her phone and checked her text message.

"Come to the bus stop near your house" was all it read, but Thorne knew it was from Pete because he was listed in her contacts.

After standing up and turning off her TV and DVD player, Thorne left her room and headed back downstairs.

"I'm going to meet up with Pete now," Thorne called out to her mother as she grabbed her leather jacket from the coat rack.

"When do I get to meet this Pete?" Thorne's mother looked up from her novel.

Thorne paused and bit her lip. "Um, I'm not sure."

"Well, let's hope it's sooner rather than later. Your father will be pleased to know that you have a boyfriend."

"I said this earlier, we aren't dating." Thorne rolled her eyes and waved goodbye to her mother.

The air outside was chillier than usual, causing Thorne to shiver while she was putting on her jacket. It was definitely night time, but it was still pretty easy to navigate in the darkness. Putting her house key and phone in her pocket, she headed towards the bus stop that was conveniently located near her house.

Thorne spotted Pete leaning on the sign and checking his phone, the glow from the screen illuminating his pockmarked face. Hearing her approaching footsteps, Pete turned in Thorne's direction and waved her over.

"So, where are we going?" Thorne asked as she reached Pete.

"You'll see. Or maybe not." Pete smirked as he took a grey handkerchief out from his back pants pocket.

Thorne looked at the handkerchief in Pete's hand and asked, "You like bondage?"

Stammering, Pete's face went from pale to crimson as he answered Thorne. "W-w-hat?"

Laughing, Thorne replied, "Handkerchief code. Grey means the person is into bondage. The code is mostly used by homosexuals, but people into BDSM use it as well."

Pete raised an eyebrow. "So does this mean that you are gay and into bondage?"

Rolling her eyes, Thorne admitted, "One of those accusations is correct."

Gulping, Pete moved towards Thorne. "Regardless, I'm going to tie this around your head. The location isn't too far from here, but I wanted to walk you there instead of drive."

Sighing, Thorne allowed Pete to tie the bandana around her eyes. Once he was finished, he moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulder.

"Start walking. I'll make sure you don't bump into anyone."

They began to walk in silence for what seemed like hours to Thorne, but eventually Pete asked her to stop walking. She could hear the sound of an old creaky gate opening and Pete's footsteps moving towards her.

He slowly removed her blindfold and said, "Welcome to South Park's graveyard."

Groaning, Thorne opened her eyes and looked at the big black gate that opened up to the rows upon rows of graves. Pete started walking and Thorne grudgingly trailed behind him.

"You just _had_ to take me to one of the most cliched gothic places, didn't you," Thorne whined sarcastically. "Aren't places like this usually locked around this time of night?" _So this is what Pete considers chasing the moonlight_, she thought to herself as she looked around the empty graveyard.

Pete laughed quietly. "My friends and I constantly break into this place. We learned how to pick locks a couple of years ago. Remember, you were the one who agreed to chase the moonlight with me tonight."

"I thought we were going to your house or Stark's Pond, not this place." Thorne looked around as if expecting a ghost or skeleton to pop out. "Graveyards make me uncomfortable."

Stopping in his tracks, the Red Goth turned around to face Thorne and asked, "Why? I mean, the dead can't come back to life. It's just old bones and flowers on graves."

Thorne pushed past Pete and sat on a nearby bench, a heavy sigh escaping from her lips. "Maybe some other time. Um, earlier at school today you said you had some questions to ask me?" She looked up at the Red Goth, who was pulling a cigarette out of his pack. Softly shaking the box in front of Thorne, he asked "Want one? Figured it might calm you down a bit."

Shaking her head, she responded, "No thanks. I've had enough cigarettes and coffee for a lifetime. Plus, I've never been a big fan of dying from cancer."

Smirking, Pete placed his cigarette between his teeth and put the pack in his back pocket.

"They don't kill you unless you light them. And I've never lit one. It's a metaph-" Pete was interrupted by Thorne's laughter.

"Oh God," Thorne placed her head between her hands. "Please don't quote that shitty cancer book."

"So you've read that shitty cancer book too? We had to read it in high school." Pete rolled his eyes. "Don't see what the fucking conformists see in it."

"Anyway," Thorne smiled. "What did you want to know?"

"Well for starters, is Thorne your real name or your Goth name?" Pete lit his cigarette and exhaled slowly, staring up at the crescent moon in the foggy night sky as he sat down next to her.

Trying to hide her coughing, Thorne replied, "My real name is Hawthorne."

"Gross, like the shitty emo band Hawthorne Heights?" Pete scowled. "And besides, isn't Hawthorne a last name?"

"I couldn't have been named after Hawthorne Heights," Thorne laughed. "I'm nineteen. You ever heard of _The Scarlet Letter_?"

"Yeah, we also had to read that in high school. But I thought it was loads better than The Fault in Our Conformist Love."

Thorne looked down at the glass below her Creepers, what she assumed to be the remains of a beer bottle. Softly kicking it, she answered Pete.

"My mother loved Nathaniel Hawthorne, the guy who wrote it. She didn't want to name me Hester, so she and my father decided on Hawthorne. I don't know why they couldn't just name me Nathaniel or Thorne, but whatever."

"I see," Pete turned to face Thorne. "To be honest, the only person I've heard of with the name Thorne as a first name is that Thorn girl from the Hex Girls."

Thorne's face turned a bright shade of red. "She's the reason I decided to call myself Thorne. But I added an 'e' because it looked more feminine. _Scooby-Doo and the Witch's Ghost_ was one of my favorite movies when I was little. I guess it was one of yours, too?"

Pete took another drag. "Yeah, you could say that." Realizing what he admitted, he exhaled and stammered, "D-d-don't tell the others that. I mean yeah that movie had Goths in it and stuff, but Scooby-Doo is for conformists."

"Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Actually, no." Pete admitted, snuffing out the remains of his cig with his shoe. "I have a lot of questions actually. Like, why did you leave South Park Elementary after that Stick of Truth shit? How come you were a mute in elementary school? Why did you delete your Facebook account? How come you don't like graveyards?"

Thorne laughed at Pete's inquisitiveness. "Slow down, Pete. One question at a time."

"Fine. Why did you leave?" Pete bit his lower lip while looking at Thorne.

Sighing, Thorne stood up and paced around. "My parents didn't like the kids I was friends with."

"You mean Raven and those guys?" The Red Goth flipped his hair out of his face.

Thorne stopped pacing and turned towards Pete. "Who the fuck is Raven?"

"Oh, sorry. I mean Stan Marsh and those dorks." Pete looked at the cigarette bud on the ground. "Stan used to be one of us. But that Butters fag convinced him into being a conformist again."

"You shouldn't call Butters, or anyone, a fag." Thorne scolded Pete as she headed towards the bench and sat back down.

"I know, I know. Old habits die hard, I guess." Looking back at Thorne, he shrugged. "No hard feelings against them, ya know? It's just no one else understood us then. Most of us have changed a bit since our elementary school days, Thorne. We still hate all the conformists and Justin and Britney wannabes, but we don't go out of our way to hate people who aren't Goth."

"I thought you guys still hated the Emos and the Vampire Kids?"

"Oh, of course we still hate those assholes." Pete laughed. "It's just we try not to pick fights with anyone or bully people."

Thorne and Pete stopped talking and just stared out at the graveyard, thinking about everything that has changed since Thorne came to South Park. Thanks to her hard work, the Nazi zombies turned back to normal, South Park didn't end up being destroyed, and life in South Park actually seemed normal for once. But Pete felt like Thorne didn't fully reveal everything to him. He wanted to know the answers to his questions so badly. But looking at her face, he could tell something was up with her. She definitely changed since that Stick of Truth incident. He didn't have a good reason why, but he wanted to help her.

Before he could stop himself from acting on it, Pete leaned over and hugged Thorne, making her jump slightly and ask, "Hey Pete, what are you doing?" She could smell the cigarettes, coffee, and his cologne on his skin. Thorne was shocked that the smell didn't gross her out.

Pete didn't answer her. He just sat there, on that bench in the middle of the night, holding Thorne. The smell of her perfume filled his nose as he inhaled the sweet scent and hugged her tighter.

Eventually, Pete mumbled to himself, "If I could fix myself I'd –." He stopped mid sentence to sigh. "But it's too late for me. I won't let you fall apart" He lifted his head up and looked at Thorne, who was staring back at the Red Goth with confusion.

"You like Nine Inch Nails, too?" she whispered, moving Pete's hair back so she could get a better look at his face.

"Yeah," He whispered, hugging her tighter.

Inhaling sharply, Thorne hugged the Goth back. "I guess I should start being honest with you."

"Honest about what?" Pete laughed. "You really were named after Hawthorne Heights?"

"About why I left. I told you half of the story."

Pete sighed. "You don't have to tell me everything tonight, you know."

Thorne bit her lip. "I wasn't planning on it. But I bet you're wondering why I'm so talkative now compared to when we first met in elementary school."

Sitting up straight, Pete looked into Thorne's light blue eyes. "Of course. You're so different from then. We thought you were a boy and now you talk."

Thorne inched away slowly from Pete, pulling her legs up to her chest and holding them. "I honestly don't know why everyone thought I was a boy. Maybe it was because no one heard my voice or my hair was unusually short for a girl."

Pete looked at Thorne sympathetically. "Whenever you're ready."

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she softly began to explain.

"I have selective mutism. The easiest way to explain that is by comparing me to Chell from _Portal_ or Link from _The Legend of Zelda_. As you can tell, I definitely know how to talk. It's just, sometimes the words just can't leave my mouth. I try to speak, but it's like my vocal cords harden."

"That explains a lot, actually." Pete admitted, watching Thorne. Talking about her selective mutism must be a sensitive topic, but he was glad that she was trusting him enough to tell him about it.

"I left South Park Elementary not just because of Stan and the guys. It was because my Dad thought that the school environment was worsening the mutism. He and my mother ended up homeschooling me and signing me up with a therapist who specifically deals with people like me. Since I communicate with her via the Internet, I don't leave the house. We found a medication that helps a lot with the mutism. But it doesn't fully go away. If I don't take it regularly or I miss a dose, I won't even speak to my parents."

"But I got sick of being at home all the time and not having friends, so I finally decided to attend Denver Community College this semester, thinking it might help with the anxiety and shyness. My mother said she'll help me search for a job and apartment once I get used to college life. It's been so long since I've left my house and seen other people besides my parents and therapist. I think I overestimated how much I could handle. I can't even have a normal college experience like everyone else."

Thorne's breathing was getting faster and she kept her eyes shut tight.

Unsure of the right way to calm her down, Pete kept his distance and said, "Hey, it'll be okay now. It's a good thing we saw you today. You are more than welcome to hang out with us. And if it makes you feel any better, we don't have a conformist college experience either. We waited until Firkle got accepted in the dual enrollment program so we could all be college freshmen at the same time."

Thorne slowly began to calm down. She thought that people were going to laugh at her because she was older than a typical college freshman. But after hearing Pete's confession, she felt a whole lot better.

"That was so sweet of you guys to do that so Firkle wouldn't be alone." Smiling at Pete, she began to play with her braid. "Um, I actually saw one of you guys and Damien in my English class today. Maybe I can sit with the Curly Goth next time?"

Pete laughed. "Curly is Michael. Feel free to call him Mike or Mikey to piss him off. Do you have any classes tomorrow?"

Thorne nodded as she reached into her pocket and handed her schedule to Pete.

Pete skimmed the schedule and let out a small smile. "Good news: we have Math together tomorrow. Bad news: it's Math."

Giggling, she leaned over for her schedule back. "That's better than having nobody I know in that class."

Pete flipped his hair out of his eyes. "Firkle might be able to help you since he had to keep his GPA up to be able to attend DCC."

Before Thorne could respond, Pete's ringtone went off.

_Death and despair. Death and despair. Death and despair. Death and des-_

"Fuck," Pete reached into his pocket for his iPhone and stood up. "Sorry about this. It's Henrietta. I better take it."

Pushing the talk button, Pete raised his phone up to his ear and asked, "Hello?"

On the other end, Henrietta replied to Pete, "Hey. You and that New Kid wanna come back to the apartment and read some poetry before Michael and I go to work?"

"Her name is Hawthorne," Pete replied, smirking as he watched Thorne stare daggers at him.

"Hawthorne?" Henrietta laughed. "Eh, whatever. We've all got shitty names. So can she come or not? We'll probably be seeing her a lot lately now that you two are dating, so we might as well get used to her presence, conformist or not."

"Sh-she's not my girlfriend," Pete growled at Henrietta, his face turning a dark shade of red. "Let me ask her."

Muting his phone, he turned to Thorne and asked, "Michael, Henrietta, and I share an apartment and Henrietta wants to know if you want to come by and read some poetry. I know it's late, but you and Firkle can stay over. I can swing by your house if you need to get shit."

"Um," Thorne bit her lip, unsure of how to answer Pete. She was worried that her father wouldn't like him. Her mother would probably be okay with it since she was so glad that she finally made a friend. She was an adult, but she still didn't want to upset her parents after everything they've done for her.

"I-I-I guess it'll be fine," Thorne whispered, tears starting to well up in her eyes. _Why can't I just be a normal adult like Pete and the other Goths? I still live at home, I just started community college, I can't drive, I don't have a job. I'm worthless. _Thorne was starting to get a headache from all of her thoughts.

Pete looked at Thorne sadly before returning his attention to the phone call. "Yeah I guess so."

"Great. Also, you will be dating soon enough. Mark my words. Later."

Ending the call, Pete put his iPhone away and sat back down. "You alright?"

Trying to mask her anxiety, Thorne softly laughed. "For such a non-conformist that you claim to be, you still use an iPhone."

Lying through his teeth, Pete responded, "We all have Blackberries, but we added the Apple logo on the backs to piss off the conformists." He stood up again and offered his hand to Thorne. "I guess I should be getting you home now."

"Okay," Thorne replied, placing her hand in his. She was a bit relieved that she was just going home to get her things, even if explaining the situation to her mother and father would be awkward. She was starting to enjoy being around Pete, but she also wanted to get to know the other Goth kids better.

After he helped her stand, Pete headed towards the exit of the graveyard with Thorne.

"Um, Pete?" Thorne quietly asked, following behind him.

"Yeah?"

"Y-you're still holding my hand."


End file.
